It's rare that I tell readers about one of my super secret fishing spots. But I'm going to make an exception this time.

It's a place that offers virgin fishing for fish that seldom see a hook, a place where you'll almost never see another angler, a place that has solitude, peace and quiet, plenty of wild creatures. It's also a place where you can often catch 20-30 fish a day, even more if you work at it.

Where is it? Ontario? Quebec? Montana?

No, it's likely to be within 20 miles of where you live, and it doesn't matter where you live. I'm talking about stream and small-river fishing, spots that hardly anyone ventures to visit.

I made my first trip to a northern Ohio stream in the early 1970s, heading for the Vermillion River with a veteran angler named Johnny Peyssard. We parked at a bridge about 25 miles south of the lake, a long stretch where Johnny had permission to fish.

At first it wasn't much. There were beer cans and candy bar wrappers for a hundred yards or so, but after that the path faded, all litter disappeared and we were in wild country.

I'll never forget that trip. We leapfrogged from one pool to the next, each fishing his pool and the riffle below, and caught smallmouth after smallmouth, feisty fish that acted like they'd never seen a lure.

It's possible they had not. They weren't lunkers, averaging about a half-pound with a few reaching a pound or even better. But they were great fighters on our ultralite tackle and 4-pound test line.

I'd swear several cleared the surface by two feet.

Since then, I've fished streams and small rivers many times, frequently wearing chest waders or hip boots, sometimes just shorts and tennis shoes. In all that time, except near bridges and close road pulloffs, I've seen maybe five other anglers.

These spots just aren't fished, maybe because most people are just a little lazy.

You don't need much gear to wade a stream. I carry a shirt pocket tacklebox that has an essential sinking Rapala, a pearl-gray Roostertail spinner or two in 1/8-ounce sizes. There are a couple of small jigs with twistertails that imitate leeches and maybe a Beetlespin.

If there are bass in any stream, you'll catch them on this collection.

I fish the black or brown jigs in deep pools, bumping right along bottom, and in smooth runs and riffle bottoms, I use the spinners or a Rapala. I bump the Beetlespin along the bottom, too, if the water is a murky and I need more flash.

Again, a shirt-pocket tacklebox covers every need.

There are lots of great places to try your luck.

The Kokosing River is a favorite, especially territory around Fredericktown and parts east. Sometimes in the deeper stretches, I'll fish from a canoe, hurrying across thin water, lingering near pools to plumb their depths.

The Vermillion is good water from Clarksfield north until you hit deeper water near the lake, and the Sandusky has produced fish for me from just north of Bucyrus clear to Fremont, though the northern reaches are best canoed.

There are lots more, and one likely is within 20 miles. Farther south, there's Ohio Brush Creek, the far upper reaches of the Olentangy and lots more small tributaries clear to the Kentucky border.

Don't pass up the little streams, either. A creek near home I've fished many times is 10 feet wide and so shallow in spots that you can cross without wetting the tops of your shoes. But there are pools, and those pools hold bass.

Another outside Dayton is about 6 feet wide and just inches deep in most places, but it yielded up eight or nine scrappy bass. A small creek near the Ohio River produced nice little bass in a beautiful setting of forest and rocky outcrops.

There are lots of choices.

Remember, always wade with caution and hopefully with a friend. It's also important to ask permission of the landowner. But given that and a willingness to walk far from bridges, you'll find virgin water and find it close to home.